


Can We Speak in Flowers?

by kyojinouji



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Alternate Universe - Police, Drarry, I've never written a HP fic pls forgive me, Language of Flowers, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Reunions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-06-22 02:30:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15571722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyojinouji/pseuds/kyojinouji
Summary: Draco Malfoy had chosen to move past his college years. After the arrest and later death of his father, he had taken it upon himself to care for his mother. Draco had planned to become a doctor; but his interest in practical green magic took hold of his life. He chose to discover herbal remedies rather than rely on modern medications. Unfortunately, it was this that pulled Harry Potter back into his life.Draco’s childhood rival and college lover, Harry had went off to become an officer. He dropped out of Hogwarts University to stand up against wrongdoings that mirrored those of their past. So, why had he returned? And was Draco willing to give him a second chance?





	1. Baby's Breath

> _**"T** hey said,_   
>  _"Come be the newest member of The Broken Hearts Club,_   
>  _We hate every little thing about the people that we love._   
>  _We're the let-down, we're the lied-to, where the lost go when it finds you,_   
>  _Where the lonely make the lonely feel less lonely, and we're dying to_   
>  _Invite you to stay, and take away the pain._   
>  _'Cause misery loves company, so hey, what do you say?"_
> 
> _-_ **gnash** _-[the broken hearts club](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aa0k5Z07Ok4)_

      **Gypsophila** ; better known as Baby’s Breath. Its dainty petals and slender stem held so much more importance to him than what customers frequently wished to use it for. It has always been one of the most common accent pieces in floral arrangements thanks to its versatile appearance. However, to someone who studied their language, gypsophila represented purity. Undying love. Freedom from corruption. Reconnection. All things Draco Malfoy clung to desperately.

     His childhood had been no different than that of many others. He had been well off and lived in a large mansion alongside both of his parents. Their home was always bustling with the sounds of maids and butlers. It was natural for them. Yet, he learned eventually that it was the furthest thing from normal when compared to the lifestyles of the student body. Most of his peers did not have possession of entire wings of their homes. One bloke in particular had the furthest thing from that. 

     His name was Harry Potter. An orphan by way of his parents’ murder, the boy was forced to live under the stairwell of his extended family’s small home. Their biological son had been pampered his entire life and none of them found it odd to force their poor nephew to live within the depths of a closet. Of course, this was not public knowledge. Rather, Draco had to pull teeth just to gain that much knowledge about the boy wonder. 

    He had never been on the best of terms with Harry. He had tried to welcome him to their middle school upon his transfer, but instead the mousy, tan boy had already picked his group. And it was one Draco wanted nothing to do with. Instead of befriending the orphan boy, the two grew into being rivals. They competed in nearly every medium; lacrosse, academics, and of course scholarship funding when the two reached college admissions age. By senior year of high school, they wanted nothing more than to rip the other’s hair out. 

     Maybe that was why they found themselves face to face in the back seat of Harry’s Saturn Ion the night of graduation. Years of tension and rivalry had dissolved into an emotional goodbye of sorts. The two had grown romantically entwined throughout high school, both overpowered by their sense of perceived hatred to act on their emotions, and had only confessed after receiving their diplomas. It was never supposed to happen like this. 

     Draco’s family had already been arranging an engagement between him and a young lady named Astoria Greengrass. Harry was in a relationship with his best friend, Ron Weasley’s, younger sister. Yet, there they were; snogging to the gentle beat of some indie pop song. Thank god the windows were tinted, as people were still coming and going from the ceremony. Pulling away, Draco traced the outline of Harry’s cheek with a mercury gaze. The brunette only stared back, eyes crinkling at the corners, and tugged him back down. This was risky, though, and as much as he loved the idea of shocking Potter’s friends, he truly did not want to deal with it tonight. Years of tension between their groups, caused of course by the two holding each other in a heated embrace, gave him a phantom headache. He could already hear Weasley’s squeaky voice nagging at him for stealing his best friend away from beneath his nose. 

     “Potter,” his voice was strained as he tried to squirm out of Harry’s iron grasp, “you need to let me leave.” Harry sighed; his forehead pushing against Draco’s as he fought to catch his breath. 

     “I don’t  _ have _ to do anything, Malfoy.” His grin was intoxicating. Toothy and full of something mischievous. That something, Draco knew, he did not have the time or energy to keep up with. “You aren’t really going to boss me around on our last night together, are you?” His answer was a light shove as the blonde wriggled out of his grasp.

     “I am and I will. Besides, don’t say it as though we’ve had any other nights together.” He worked to adjust his shirt. A glance in the rearview showed him an absolutely unkempt vision of himself. His platinum hair had been tugged out of its usual gelled back fashion and it was obvious there would be no returning. How did he manage to dig his fingers through it so rambunctiously? He whirled on Harry; hoping to appear intimidating. Like the rivals they always had been. “Did you have some kind of goal to tussle my appearance to the point of no return?” As though he was nothing more than a lazy cat, the other simply stretched his limbs, hitting Malfoy in the process, and rolled onto his stomach. 

     “Did it work?” The grin had yet to disappear and frankly it irked the blond. Leaning over the other, he picked his tie off the car’s small floor. The air around them had grown incredibly warm and stuffy, making it difficult focus on fixing the neck piece into a simple Windsor. Harry studied him for a few moments, each one dangling in the air between the couple like plump worms tied to a lure, before sitting up. His hands found their way to the ends of the tie’s fabric and he quickly looped it into a fashionable knot. 

     “I never imagined Harry Potter would be adjusting my clothing for me.” Malfoy watched him carefully, as if testing the waters, before bringing a hand up to the other’s cheek. Harry smiled, this time one full of humor, and shrugged. “Rather, I never imagined Harry Potter knew how to tie a tie.” His tone was full of mock sarcasm and earned him a quiet laugh. 

     His arms wrapping around Draco’s neck, Harry pressed a gentle kiss to his temple. “I’ve always known how to; I just elect not to.” The backseat fell quiet. It was a bizarre moment for both of them and frankly they did not know how they got there in the first place. However, for once they were not complaining. Draco had known for years that his feelings were something more than what he wished for Harry to notice. A simple slip up led to flirtatious comments between classes. He never had planned on acting on his emotions. 

     Graduation practice had been stressful, that was for sure, but when Harry cornered him after the last of the students crossed the stage, he didn’t know how to react. His green eyes blazed with an emotion deeper than the scalding aggression he had shown over the years. It was more than the young Malfoy could handle, especially when they were the only two in the hall way’s alcove. 

     “I need to talk to you tonight. After the ceremony, meet me by the east entrance.” His voice was low and full of something that Draco did not have the heart to bite back at. However, he couldn’t end such an ambush with just a simple gulp and nod. Schooling his expression into a coldly, serious one, he leaned forward until his breath tickled the brunette’s ear. 

     “If you wanted to get me alone, Potter, you had plenty of years to do it. I’ll have to see what’s on my agenda for tonight.” Pushing off the wall, he made sure to ram his shoulder into the smaller boy’s. Not hard enough to knock him flat on his ass, but enough so to push him off balance. He was almost out of earshot when he heard Harry mumble, “Pompous ass”. Draco couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. 

     Waiting in the chilly night air, he didn’t know what to expect from the meeting. Harry, for one, was late. While they hadn’t agreed on a specific time, he thought that after the ceremony meant right after. Draco’s own family wasn’t own for photo-ops and neither were his friends. He had travelled out here the second he said goodbye to his parents. The other man, however, was completely MIA in the fifteen minutes following their graduation. 

     Clutching his diploma close to his chest, he thought about leaving. What good would it do talking to Harry before they were shipped off to their colleges for the next few years? Draco knew better than to hold onto memories of this unrequited love, and yet, there he still stood. He was lost in thought when the boy wonder did show up on the scene. He gently tapped the blonde’s shoulder, earning an out of character yelp and quietly grumbled, “pissant” commentary. 

     Harry frowned; his gaze moving up and down Draco’s frame. “I told you to wait inside.” His voice was tender, as though he actually pitied making the other wait, and he brought his arms close to his chest. The taller man couldn’t help but roll his eyes. 

     “Actually,” Malfoy began, frame positioned in a way he hoped would come across as intimidating, “You told me to meet you by the east entrance. You didn’t clarify which side of the entrance you meant.” He couldn’t stop his tone from coming across as snarky. Of course, he was angry. When you corner someone and demand they wait for you, one should be on time. Harry, however, looked increasingly more stressed with each and every word Draco said. By the end, his middle finger and thumb had come together to rub at his temples and the space between his brows. “Regretting meeting with me that greatly, Potter?”

     Harry stopped almost instantly. Green eyes locking Draco’s own mercury, he narrowed his gaze. “I might as well, Malfoy.” He spoke through gritted teeth and suddenly sighed. “Listen, Draco, I’m really not here to fight with you. I just want to talk.” 

     “Talk?” Caution laced his voice like molasses. “What could we possibly have to talk about?” Years of their rivalry, no doubt. Harry would apologize for things that he said while they were growing up. Malfoy would bite back at him and inevitably accept the apology. He would issue a half-assed one of his own. And finally, they would wish each other luck at their universities and part forever. Instead, though, Harry almost seemed nervous. Enough so that Draco chose to take the initiative. 

     “Potter, listen, we were kids. Nothing we’ve said or done will have a lasting impact on the other’s life, so isn’t it better if we put our differences aside and move on?” For the first time in his life, Draco was met with the stare of an absolutely bewildered Harry Potter. 

     The brunette found himself shaking his head. Eyes wide, he appeared to be at a loss for words. Remnants of Draco’s voice drifted between them; phantom echoes. When the time came for Harry to speak, his voice was gentle. Softer than anything he had ever used in regard to his rival. “I appreciate it, Malfoy, but that wasn’t exactly what I was planning on telling you.” Instantly, shame burned Draco’s palid cheeks. Of course not, why would Harry Potter ever apologize to him, Draco Malfoy? He was the person that made Harry’s life a living hell for so many years. “Malfoy, I wanted to talk to you about...well…” He paused, as if afraid to push on further for it might shatter the man before him. “I wanted you to know that I’ve appreciated getting to know you. Even if it wasn’t well. And I wish we could go back and change the way we acted. I believe you and I could have been an unstoppable duo if we ever worked together.” Harry met his gaze again; this time he spoke with strength, “Draco Malfoy, can we have a do over?” He was being honest. And while he said exactly what Draco had been hoping to hear, it did not feel adequate. Rather, the phrase instilled a pit of sudden emptiness in to his stomach. One strong enough to send him into autopilot. 

     Without truly stopping to think about what consequences he might face for his actions, he found himself pulling Harry to him. His lips pressed against the brunette’s, gentle until Harry began to kiss him back. Suddenly, Draco remembered where they were standing. Students still would be milling around with their families. What kind of rumors would spread about them if they kept at it? To Ginny, Astoria, and even his own parents. It was a situation he was terrified of facing. However, this embrace with Harry was something he was not prepared to give up yet. 

     Pulling away, the duo gasped quietly for breath. Draco, not one for interrupting the moment, brought his lips to Harry’s ear for the second time that day. “Where is your car?” He whispered; his breath warm as he pushed strands of messy hair away from Harry’s forehead. Harry chewed on the skin of his lip, trying to recall exactly where his car was, before tilting his head towards the left.

     "Can I ask for what, though?” Draco found himself only staring back at the boy. “Oh. You want to keep snogging, is that it?” Cockily, he placed a hand on his hip. It was as though he purposely wanted to defy Draco. Not at all surprising, but it definitely did irritate him more so than he expected. “What if I say no? Or I remind you that I’m in a relationship?”

     “Might I remind you that I’m engaged? You kissed me back, Potter. If you don’t want to do this, just tell me, and I’ll be out of your hair immediately.” This earned him an instant laugh. “What is your answer, then? It may just be kissing, but I for one will not do it again without your consent. I should have asked before doing it just now.”

     Harry laughed again; his hand finding Draco’s open palm. “I’ve been wanting to do that since we were thirteen, Malfoy. I give you permission to do it again.” He started to lean forward, but Draco placed a gentle hand on his chest. “What?”

     Sighing, the blonde ran a hand through his hair. “You still have a girlfriend and I still am in an arranged marriage. We need to be at least partially concealed somewhere so rumors don’t spread.” Harry nodded before tugging lightly on Draco’s sleeve. 

     “Come on, then.” They travelled to the place Harry had parked, but Draco had begun to second guess himself. What if the Potterlings were waiting for them at the vehicle? They could all be stationed in hiding, cameras at the ready, and plotting their own revenge after years of torment by the Malfoy hand. It could get published in some tabloid article as, “Malfoy Heir; Homosexual Affair with Surrey Golden Boy”. Instead, the small black vehicle beeped as Harry unlocked the doors. Quickly, he turned to face Draco, lost in his own thoughts. “Are you getting in?”

     “Is that an invitation or a threat?” The shorter boy had positioned himself on the other side of Draco, pinning him between himself and the chill of the metal. Harry scooted him out of the way slightly before swinging the Ion’s door wide open. Like a card house in the breeze, all it took was a gentle push to send Malfoy flat onto his back and onto the seats. Harry crawled on top of him; the cramped space tangling their limbs together like branches.

     “Whatever you want to take it as, Malfoy.” The moment the car door slammed shut behind them, they lost the majority of their space. As to be expected, the couple instantly felt trapped in the situation they had created for themselves. It did not matter the way they twisted, the two were cramped in the small area.  “Shit, maybe a car wasn’t the best idea after all.” Draco couldn’t help but laugh and pull Harry back down to meet him. Their kisses were slow, but full of heat. His lips were so much softer than Draco had imagined. Not to say that he had pictured a scene like this often before. Or he had, but it was something that he would never admit to. Deep down, he knew that he should not let it continue. Even as the brunette tugged his tie loose and pulled it over the blonde’s head. Even as Harry got a better grip on his hair and ran his mouth along his neck; peppering bites in a spray across his collarbone. 

     Gasping, he forced himself to push the other away. “Potter, what are you doing?” He could feel the other smile against his skin, tongue wet as it lapped gently along the new marks. “You can’t. What if they show up tomorrow?”

     “They will.” His smirk was shit-eating. Groaning, Draco struggled to free himself, but was instead pulled closer to Harry again. The assault on his neck was back full-force and snapped him out of the delusion he had been pulled into. This was Harry Potter. His childhood enemy up until this moment. What would people think if they saw the two of them together? He could handle being called a cheater. Hell, he could handle losing Astoria. The two had little to no chemistry and it would be a kick in his father’s ego to have such a potent business engagement fall through. For what? The son of his own high school rival. His sexuality had never been a secret. He was very proudly bisexual, but truly had no motivation to act on his attractions to any gender. Lucius denied it though, frequently, and this would be impossible for him to deny. However, he wasn’t sure that he could handle destroying what the female Weasley and Harry had. He felt like a bull in a china shop. 

     Draco Malfoy had never hated Harry Potter for any reason than the fact that Harry had everything Draco had ever wanted. Parents who would have loved him for being himself; would they still be alive to have seen who he was becoming. Supportive friends who would follow him with no questions asked. His own friends were kind, but he could never be sure if Pansy and Blaise liked him for his personality or his status. Friendship couldn’t be bought, but it sure as hell could be emulated. Dragging Harry down for his own personal crush would potentially ruin so much of what the brunette had built up. If he still felt malicious towards the boy, he might have done it. Used him as a pawn in a game against his family; his life. However, that was no longer the case. This time, he pushed Harry away firmly. 

     Lips swollen, they stared at each other in silence. This was a mistake. They were a mistake. And now they needed to say goodbye, possibly permanently, before any further damage was done. “Potter,” he pushed his forehead to the brunette’s, trying to keep from letting tears spill over, “You need to let me leave.” 

     That wasn’t the last time they saw each other however. Some goodbyes aren’t as final as we wish to make them seem. It was so far in the past, that at age twenty-six, Draco Malfoy had a stable career. He was estranged from his family, partially in thanks to the golden boy himself, but also because he had learned to be brave. He and Harry had a past. Not in relation to their high school careers or before, but to their own college life. 

 

-

 

     After such an emotional goodbye, the two found themselves staring at each other across a table in the seven floor library. Only five months had passed since graduation and both had been kicking themselves the entire summer for not asking which university they would be attending. They had simply assumed they would be separated again. 

     “You came to Hogwarts?” Malfoy could only nod; his mercury gaze not breaking from Harry’s green one even slightly. “Well, I guess that was a rather pointless goodbye then, wasn’t-” The rest of his sentence was cut off as the blonde carefully stood up from his seat, made his way to the other side of the desk, and slammed his lips against the other’s. It was the first of many kisses on the Hogwarts campus. And now, so many years later, Draco still dreamt of that moment. He wished that the two could have held on together, for as long as forever might have been, but somethings were not meant to always remain. 

 

-

 

     They had just completed their sophomore year, but during the summer before their junior year, Harry dropped the bomb on him. “I won’t be coming back to Hogwarts this year, Draco.” They had stopped calling each other by their last names by that point. In Draco’s mind, it was mental preparation in case they were to be each other’s eternal one. That he may one day take Harry’s last name. He had never expected those words to drift from his lover’s mouth. 

     “What do you mean?” He couldn’t help the way his tone wobbled like a young fawn. “Where will you be going?” Harry reached for Draco’s hand, but for once, the blonde pulled away. He could only stare at the space his hand had rested. 

     Harry drew in a soft breath; muttering, “I was thinking about the police academy.” An officer? Harry Potter wanted to serve under the law? 

     Draco almost could not believe it. Of course, Harry had never been interested in the majority of his studies. His scholarship to Hogwarts had been for lacrosse; nothing academic. But he had always enjoyed the sport! Why would he give up a free ride for police work?

     “So you’re dropping out of university. That’s fine really. You’ll make great money if you’re part of the force. And once I graduate, I’ll buy that flower shop we’ve talked about for so long. I’ll make herbal remedies on the side and we can buy a place in Brighton.” He was trying to keep his tone level. Not only due to the two of them sitting in the center of a small cafe, but because Draco truly did not want Harry to see him cry. Not again, and especially, at this exact moment. 

     He watched Harry fiddle with tan the skin around his thumb before finally meeting his eyes. “Draco, I think we should stop seeing each other.” It felt the same as jumping into a pond full of ice. Like he was floating through deep water, unable to push himself to the surface, and everything Harry said after was far away. Was this was pure shock felt like? 

     “Why?” Broken. God, his own voice sounded so broken. Even Harry winced at the tone.

     “Long distance will distract you, love. You need to focus on your studies. You need to know what kind of plants make a kickass bouquet. What to use to make an anti-inflammatory. Draco, you deserve so much more love and attention than I’ll be able to give you.” 

     The blonde couldn’t stop his voice from cracking as he could only whisper, “What I need is you, you bumbling arse.” His chair skittered backward as Draco pushed himself from the table. The coffee shop had fallen silent, no doubt listening to their conversation, and it took everything he had to not run from the room. Harry had taken everything he had in that moment. Yet, he managed to remain composed his entire way back to his apartment. Thank the heavens Harry had taken the train to visit this weekend, because the moment Draco entered him and Blaise’s shared flat, he was on the floor. Goodbyes aren't forever though. Especially not when you have been involved with one Harry Potter. 


	2. Statice

> **"** _Hail to those who have come,_
> 
> _ From the sunlight that surrounds you. _
> 
> _ Pray for those who have gone, _
> 
> _From the sunlight that surrounds you._ **"**
> 
> _**Rilo Kiley** \- [Hail to Whatever You Found in the Sunlight that Surrounds You](https://youtu.be/fbfmwKM2zFg)_

 

     Statice. Limonium. Sea lavender. Different names representing the same purple flower. Groups of vibrant amethyst blossoms together and tangle them into a refined plume. The trips he and Harry made to the port towns, to Brighton in particular, were always coated in the same floral overlay in his memories. They were bookmarked, dog-eared, by this same budding beauty. And it only felt right that the flower itself represented the one thing he worked so hard to avoid when it came to topic of the Hogwarts star: remembrance, sympathy, and success.

     Present day, Draco is twenty-six years old. He graduated from Hogwarts University nearly half a decade ago, but the place had changed his life eternally. It had not prepared him for the real world, so to speak, but it had given him the knowledge of how to push through adversary. His studies led him exactly where he had been working towards: a small flower shop on the edge of the sea. Brighton was far too expensive, even for him, as he had separated from the rest of the Malfoy family near the end of his university career. 

     The housing market was far more advanced than he had prepared himself for. While his heart had always been set on a specific little home in Brighton, he settled for a two bedroom flat in Hove. The town had a population of just under 100,000 people and was only a hop skip and a jump away from the ocean. The salt spray danced in the air around his home and he felt a pang of desire for memories of the past to come true once more. 

     He was not the only one from their old Hogwarts group to have fallen into this profession, however, as Pansy Parkinson stood directly to his left. She had been busying herself with flipping through the most recent edition of The English Garden. Every so often she would chuckle quietly before shoving the magazine in his direction. Some of the ads were ridiculous things like, “Win a free sample of artificial grass,” and were honestly hilarious in the eyes of two florists. 

     Draco himself had been trimming the stems of individual flowers; preparing them to be placed in the Stop-n-Go bouquet section of the shop. It was still early in the day and people had milled around the store on occasion, but there had been no major purchases yet. That certainly did not mean he wasn’t allowed to playfully lecture his coworker. After all, this was his shop. 

     “You know, Parkinson,” He began, schooling his tone into one of authority, “I’m not paying you to fondle magazines.” The girl turned towards him, one hand placed on her hip, before laughing in his face. 

     “You are barely paying me at all, Malfoy.” With a flip of her dark bob, she returned to her previous activity. “After all, where else would we keep up with the hottest gardening trends?” Pansy pushed the book towards him again. This time, the pages were open to a spread titled, “Chelsea Goes Crazy for Lupins!” Rolling his eyes, Draco placed the shears back on the counter. Or so he thought. The clattering they produced as they skittered across the shop floor completely covered up the sound of the small bell on the door. He was on the floor, trying to gather the scissors, when a familiar voice made its way to his ears.

     “Hello, do you have any arrangements one might be able to take to a hospital room?” It was sweet and syrupy like caramel. Draco found himself frozen to the tile and carefully moved to position himself further under the counter. Forget the shears. The voice continued, as though the owner had been distracted by something for a few moments. “Oh, Pansy Parkinson. It has been quite a number of years, hasn’t it?”

     Pansy spoke carefully and forced herself not the smack her boss on the back of the head as he clung closer to her shins. “It really has, Harry. Haven’t seen you since you left Hogwarts. How have you been?” She was polite, but Draco knew that it was taking a remarkable amount of her self control to not lash out. She was one of his closest friends and knew every emotion he had felt regarding Harry Potter. Over the years, he had learned that both she and Blaise would stand by his sexuality with every ounce of their being. 

     Harry laughed to himself, as though shocked she even remembered his brief attendance at their university. “I have been well. Can’t say the same for Ron, however, the buffoon went and got himself shot while on patrol.” She gasped lightly, luckily covering the sound of the blonde’s own startled sound, before covering her mouth with a palm.

     “Is he alright?” 

     “Yeah, he’s all fine. Hermione just about did him in herself though. Not that I blame her. “ It fell silent for a brief few moments. Malfoy thought about making a break for it and shuffling into the office behind them to hide instead. But then the conversation was continuing once more, back on the topic of flowers. Of course, Harry had come here with a reason. “I don’t really need anything fancy. Just something to show that I care.” He could hear the crack in Harry’s voice. No matter how much Draco had come to despise the man for what he had done to him all those years ago, nothing would stop him from remembering just how much Harry loved his friends.  _ How much more he loved his friends than he had Draco.  _

     Pansy paused briefly, considering what sort of bouquet someone like Harry Potter deserved. Should it be stunning, but far out of his price range? Or laced with poison ivy? Not that they kept poison ivy in stock, because truly why would anyone, but because it was the thought that counted. Instead, she chose to drive him towards the aisles of free standing flower vases. Once his back was turned, she motioned to Draco to stand up and move to the office. Quickly. And that was the only cue he needed to sprint out of the room. 

     While Pansy guided Harry through the steps of creating his own bouquet, the blonde found himself bitterly lecturing her in his thoughts. She held little regard for the messages flowers brought along with them. Despite them having taken a course about it during their university days, she paid little disregard to the meanings each petal held. She picked some correct sets. Sunflowers for a long life and happiness. Vivid pink tulips for the passion of being alive. Alstroemerias meaning friendship. However, she also had grabbed periwinkles. A budding relationship between Weasley and Harry? That couldn’t be more wrong. The two had been the closest of friends since Harry moved to their town. And for the most part, Ronald Weasley was the largest reason Draco did not have the proper chance to befriend Harry at first. It had been his ultimate goal, but his own prejudice against the red haired boy and their frizzy bookworm had stopped him dead in his tracks. Was it right? Of course not. Few of the things he had done to the Golden Trio were. He had just been so angry, so corrupted by his father’s teachings, and virtually incapable of independent thought. While he and Harry were together, it was something he apologized for almost daily. 

     So, periwinkles were an obviously terrible choice. And Pansy should know that above all else. However, that was not the finishing blow to Draco’s stoic demeanor. Rather, he instantly lost his composure upon hearing her recommend white lilies. Even the way she said it was the funniest thing he had overheard in days. 

     “I always think that white lilies help bring a piece like this together. They’re very versatile.” As she said versatile, her voice went up as though she was asking a question rather than simply stating her oh-so-wrong opinion. “I’m sure Ron would love these!” Without thinking, Draco let out a bark of laughter. The shop fell silent, except for the soft music pumping through the speakers. Immediately, his hands clapped over his mouth. Where was the option to rewind life? 

     “What was that?” Harry’s voice was full of curiosity. A few steps sounded off towards the office door frame, but Pansy was a goddess in human form. He could hear her pittering feet as she sped after him. 

     Maintaining her own composure, she brushed off the question with a quick quip of, “Probably just my boss. He’s a stickler for proper protocol.” Clearing her throat, Draco could practically hear her thinking about the past few moments. All at once, she seemed to remember the meaning of white lilies and back tracked her previous suggestion. “On second thought, I think he may have been reacting to my poor flower choice. He has a bizarre fascination with floral symbolism. The lilies are definitely off the table.”

     Harry sounded disappointed, “I like the lilies though. They remind me of my mother.” It was a sullen statement. He had lost his mother when he was a baby; far before he came to their school. A wild man had broken into their home and murdered the Potter parents. Rumor had it that he went after Harry as well, but only left him with the intricate lightning bolt scar about his brow. If you glanced at him too quickly, it looked almost as though Harry was a crumbling China doll. The scar was an exact replica of the branched storm lightning one might see on a deep, dark summer night. She was most certainly named after the stunning flower. 

     No matter how beautiful and dainty, however, they held a deeper connotation. And it was one that Draco did not believe Harry wanted to convey to his injured friend. Especially, not when his injured friend was the partner of one of Hogwarts’ top brainiacs. Hermione Granger would not enjoy it much if Potter toted in the very bloom used to decorate funerals and memorial services. She may even believe that Harry was preparing them just in case. 

     “You do not want to look as though you are getting a head start on a grievance bouquet, Harry. It would be unacceptable.” Not explaining herself to the fluffy haired brunette, she simply spun on her heel and retreated to the assembly station. “Now then, I’m assuming you want them wrapped in burgundy and gold?”  The two only could grin at each other. Of course, he would want them wrapped in the Gryffindor House colors.

**-**

     Their first two years at university, rather Harry’s only two, they were forced to live on campus. It was an aggravating rule, really, and the moment classes let out for the summer semester, Blaise and Draco had snagged their apartment. Harry, Hermione, Ron, and a number of their other little friends had piled themselves into Gryffindor House, one of the four main dormitories on campus. Meanwhile, Draco, Blaise, Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle, found themselves housed within the walls of Slytherin House. It was destiny, according to his father. He was following in their family footsteps and Lucius could not be prouder. Meanwhile, though, Draco found himself growing tired of the stuffy air surrounding the dorm. 

     He took great pride in being a resident of Slytherin, but the building felt pompous. It was much colder and stonier that the cozy, warmth of the Gryffindor’s. Maybe that was the reason he spent so much time dwelling there instead of his own room. Blaise was an incredible dorm mate, but there was only so much time he could spend in their space while he and Pansy snogged for hours on end. The first few months had been absolutely hellish. Harry had insisted that they keep their connection a secret. The only moments the two saw each other were when they snuck away to the upper floors of the library and sat in the clutter of stacks. He could understand the desperation to hide it from their friends, but in a way, Draco was upset that he could not enjoy himself in public. He desired so greatly to take his lover to the most expensive restaurants. And yet, they chose instead to fill their noses with the dreary scent of mildew and dust. Even their kisses were chaste, entirely dependent on if they could hear someone else’s footsteps echoing across the linoleum floor. 

     It was definitely not the life Draco had wished to lead. And little did he know, neither did Harry. Their options, however, were limited and should not be pushed. Their sneaky tactics didn’t last forever. What managed to give them away? Their sudden boost in tolerance. Their friends all had suspicions during the semester, but the pieces never fell into place until it was just after Halloween. 

     Ron had taken to avoiding his homework until the last given moment. It wasn’t uncommon in the two Gryffindor’s room, but this time his procrastination had given him a moment to study what Harry was up to across the way. His desk was pushed beneath a tall loft and covered in various sheets of green and white printed assignments. His friend, on the other hand, was paying them little to no regard. 

     While Harry was not the biggest fan of the majority of his courses, he still had the tendency to at least work on a few projects during their down time. It was his lack of attention that truly caught Ron’s eye. By this point, Harry would usually be frazzled; his hair stuck at varying angles, glasses on at a tilt, and shirt rumpled beyond belief. Instead, he had a serious expression on his face, as though pondering an intensive answer, as he typed something quickly on his phone. He hardly noticed his freckled friend scooting his way, ungracefully, across the carpet via a rolling desk chair. 

v“What’cha writing up, Harry?” His roommate spun on him, a frazzled look crossing his face like a tornado, and his green eyes grew large. Ron couldn’t help but startle himself as well. “Jeez, mate, everything okay?” He watched as Harry slammed the cell phone, screen facing down, onto the desk.

     “You really shouldn’t sneak up on someone like that, you arse.” Harry had pushed his glasses on top of his head to rub the tension from the bridge of his nose. Something was definitely up. And he was going to get to the bottom of it. After all, he wasn’t Harry’s best friend for nothing. 

     Ron pushed himself off from the desk, his chair wheeling back to his own corner of the room at surprisingly rocket speeds, before taking interest in Harry again. His tone came out almost offended as he mumbled, “It’s not like it’s a surprise for us to be in the same room.” His recovery came fast though, voice raising to a higher volume, “So, who’s the lucky gal?” 

     Harry only stared back. Slowly, he blinked across the room and tucked his glasses back onto his face. “What are you talking about?” Playing dumb, I see. 

     “You looked serious. So, you have to be texting someone cute, right?” 

     “What if I said it was Ginny?” A look of disgust crossed Ron’s face. It was impossible not the laugh as the other boy shook off his suggestion quickly. Ginny and Harry had been a thing not that long ago, so was it really that much of a shock?

     Ron still spoke with a baffled lift at the end of his sentence, “No, that can’t be right. You said you broke up with Ginny because it was just too weird kissing someone who looks like your best friend.” His eyes narrowed in Harry’s direction. “And Ginny said she is never getting back together with you because you were always in some other world. So, who were you texting, Potter?”

     Harry, spinning his chair slightly to face his desk, only laughed. The cellphone was back in his palm and he was obviously reading another message from the mystery girl. But, he was not getting off the hook so easily. Especially not when his face slowly morphed into an expression of pure glee. Ron set himself into chasing after his target. 

     Within seconds, he had charged across the room. This took the brunette by surprise and made him pause briefly. That was all the time he needed to snatch the phone straight from Harry’s hand. A quick click and he was face to face with the lock screen, a photo of the two of them and Hermione on move-in day, and one lone notification. The incredible thing about Harry’s phone was that he had it set to display the full text message in the preview. However, the unfortunate part of the situation was that Ron was met with a message from one of their friends, Seamus Finnigan. The text itself only read, “prof snape is one greasy boi >> anyone got Pantene?” The more disappointing thing was that the message had been sent to a group chat that Ron was a part of. And he knew his own phone had the chat muted because he was supposed to be working on assignments.

     “Ronald Weasley, stop being a hellion! Give that back.” Harry was obviously irritated. Handing the cell back to Harry, he sighed. So much for actually finding out anything about Harry’s virtually non-existent love life. Even he was getting more action than the boy wonder. Moping back to his chair, he missed another smile that Harry cast towards the screen of his phone. This time, the group chat had remained silent. For he and Draco knew the best way to avoid getting caught was to use Snapchat’s chat feature. Draco’s name on the app had been changed on Harry’s account to, “Venomous”. And Draco had made Harry’s, “Gryffindork”. That way, anyone that saw the notification wouldn’t know who to assume the message was from. Although, Harry had tried to convince his lover that the term he chose would be obvious. Draco seemed to have bonded with it, however, and refused to budge. 

     The topic dropped quickly, both of them realizing the time and the imminent due dates flying their way, and got back to work. Ron tried many times after that to get ahold of the phone or figure out exactly who had been texting Harry that night, but eventually the curiosity faded. Harry couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened if Ron found out it was Draco. That each time he went to study in the library, despite being incredibly out of character, if Ron even had an inkling that he was not studying. 

**-**

     Draco had went through a similar situation, but instead of remaining sneaky, he was caught within two weeks. He had been sitting at his desk, typing the final draft of a herbal remedies essay, when Blaise came back to the room. The two spoke briefly before the blonde excused himself to the restroom. It was when he returned that he noticed his roommate’s amused expression.

     “What are you grinning about, Zambini?” His grumbling voice was rough. He had been reaching the point of exhaustion one eventually smacks into after remaining awake for nearly 48 hours. Blaise’s smirk grew larger and he carefully nudged the cellphone Draco had left on his desk. This action sent an immediate chill down his spine.  _ Oh no _ . The upper corner of the phone blinked once. The yellow LED startling Draco as he sped over to it. Why had that bloody prat picked now to send him a snap. Maybe Blaise was just surprised to have seen the nickname that appeared on the screen. It didn’t mean that he had truly found out it was Harry. After all, there were hundreds of students in Gryffindor. But something made Draco meet Blaise’s eyes once more. 

     “So? What do you find so funny?” Blaise flopped onto his bed. A sigh filled the room quietly. It was irritatingly silent before he finally was given an answer. 

     Blaise pushed himself to sound upset as he asked, “Potter, huh? That’s the lad that has had you in a tizzy all this time?”  _ Oh no.  _ How had he even guessed? Blaise turned to gauge Draco’s expression before busting into a full laugh. “Why do you look so shocked? It’s not as though you did the best job of hiding it, Malfoy.” His voice went into a slightly higher tone, apparently attempting to mock Draco’s own. “Oh, Potter has no idea how to groom his own hair. Was he planning on setting that rat’s nest up for the Weasley’s pet? Harry Potter has so much potential and he’s wasting it on those two filthy ridden mongrels. Why won’t he join us for lunch just once?” Blaise sat up and shrugged. “I honestly thought we were supposed to know.” 

     With a dramatic turn, Draco stalked back to his bed. Falling straight into the comforter, he stifled his groan. Incredible. Had he truly been that obvious? And what the hell was he going to do now? Something like this was not supposed to happen. 

     “Who else knows?”

     Blaise was quiet for a few moments. Pensive, he stated, “I think just Pansy. Crabbe and Goyle are far too dim to pick up on any emotions other than lust and piss.” Shuffling, Draco rolled onto his back. “Is anyone aware on Potter’s end?” 

     Draco thought about it. Ron didn’t seem to be the kind to be quick on the upkeep there. Especially not when he had taken years to realize Hermione’s feelings for him. As well as his own, for that matter. Hermione on the other hand may be aware. He didn’t have the opportunity to see her often, but she had been acting differently towards him. It may have been the fault of the physical punch she threw into his jaw once or just the fact that she didn’t want to bother him. But there was always the possibility that she knew. And the fact that he would have to tell Harry that both Pansy and Blaise had known the entire time would be difficult on its own. 

**-**

     In the future, it was easy to see that each of their friends were moderately aware that something was going on between the two. Maybe not a romantic relationship, but it was obvious that their demeanors towards each other were altered. There was no longer cruelty while passing in the hall. Give or take the remarks about Harry’s hair or Draco’s father, it was calm. And also the primary reason their cover was blown. But their friend’s finding out made life easier. They could go on dates in public, no longer confined to the upper floors of the library, and even spent time in the common rooms of the dorms. 

     Gryffindor dorms had truly become a safe place for him. They smelled the way he had always imagined a cozy home smelling. Like a fireplace burning and cinnamon sticks on the stove. It was a comfortable hide away from his father’s rage, especially after their secret getting loose, and he had learned to trust the majority of the Gryffindor students. Whether they trusted him or not was up to them, however, and he did not blame them if they leaned further towards not. He had bullied many of them for years. That built up tension exploded the first time Neville found him sitting on one of the many couches with Harry’s arm around his shoulders. But time devours all. The negative emotions and the positive. 

     And listening to Pansy negotiate this deal with Harry from the confines of the office was uncomfortable. He wanted nothing more than the run into the main room and beat his fists against Potter’s cruel chest. He wanted to tug at his unruly brown hair and snap his glasses over his knee just so he could stare into his spinning green eyes one more time. He wanted to drag his nails across his caramel skin and kiss his cheeks. God, he wanted to just kiss him one last time. But as he heard the cash register beep and print the receipt he knew he was running out of time. He also knew that he would do none of those things. That he would sit like a stone until Harry was gone for good. 

     “Come back soon, Harry Potter. It’s been too long.” Pansy’s voice was sweeter than Draco could imagine coming out of her. The moment Harry was gone, she would come flying around the corner and yack his ear off about what happened. How Harry looked, how he acted while Draco couldn’t see him, and all the juicy details. But as the bell above the door jingled, the blonde heard only one thing. 

     “Thank you for everything, Pansy.” Harry paused briefly, considering his next words carefully, before raising his tone. “And Malfoy? Come out and say hello next time. I expected you to be on the floor since you do own this place.” His shop had been called Malfoy’s. How had he let that little detail slip from his mind? The door closed and Draco was left in stunned silence. Next time meant that Harry Potter would be back.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for reading!  
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> Kyojinouji.tumblr.com  
> Instagram and Twitter: KyojinOuji

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy this fic! I've been wanting to work on something involving Drarry for a while, but have been terrified that I won't do it justice. This fandom shaped my childhood and even as a grown adult, I still look back on this ship and feel the same as I did years ago. So, thank you for reading. I hope I can keep updating it often!
> 
> If you want to say anything about it, I will be following the tag HP: CSFW on Tumblr and Twitter!  
> You can also reach me via:  
> Tumblr- KyojinOuji.tumblr.com  
> Instagram and Twitter- KyojinOuji
> 
> Thank you!


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